


Bruise My Soul

by Tornainbow



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Alcohol, Drabble, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-26
Updated: 2010-05-26
Packaged: 2017-10-27 05:23:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tornainbow/pseuds/Tornainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Mord'Sith get drunk and celebrate. Drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruise My Soul

"Sisters," Cara's voice echoed throughout the main chamber where nearly all the Mord-Sith of the temple were gathered, just settled after a week full of hard travel and merciless fighting. "Tonight," Cara said as she flicked her wrist, signaling to the slaves to haul in the two barrels of wine that had been plundered from the recent mission, "Lord Rahl has rewarded us with a reprieve of duties. Valeria was flawlessly executed. Our master is very pleased with us."

Cara laid her gloved hand on the wood of the barrel, smoothing her fingers along the grain seductively. "Celebrate this rare night _thoroughly_."

The barrels were tapped, spilling dark red wine into exquisite crystal glasses. Cara held the first glass high for in a moment of acknowledgement before taking a long pull. Her throat worked the wine down her throat, and when she pulled the empty glass back her tongue slipped along her lips to catch the errant drops.

Tonight was a night for the Mord'Sith.

\-------

The night's revelry was well underway, the women of the temple afforded little occasion to drink. Even casual inebriation was avoided for the talent of breaking a slave required finesse and focus. More slaves were killed or reduced to a blubbering mess of insanity when alcohol stripped away the control and judgement that were so finely honed in the Mord-Sith.

Tonight was an uncommon gift, but it was well earned—they had left no survivors in Valeria. There were no captives to chain, train, and break this time.

After a couple hours into the celebration, Dahlia approached Cara. "The success rests on your skill and leadership," she said with an inviting turn of her hips.

The brunette had waited until Cara was alone, away from the sisters who spoke of their own feats and glories. Cara eyes were sharp and focused, but her stern curves were relaxed as the tipsy effect of the alcohol took hold. Her aura was leisurely, smooth and silky, a predator knowing it had nothing to fear.

"I merely did what I was ordered," Cara replied. A smirk belied her humble words.

"Exactly," Dahlia said graciously. "We both know why Lord Rahl asked you to lead this mission as soon as you recovered from your... hiatus."

Cara finished the last inch of her glass and thrust its emptiness toward Dahlia. "Fetch me another." It was no subtle hint to change the subject, but Dahlia was not surprised. Cara had made a point to avoid speaking of the reason she had been forced to bedrest for nine months.

Dahlia grabbed the glass, but paused, her fingers gliding along Cara's. "Yes, _Mistress_ Cara," she said, her voice low and full of offer. She slid the glass free and turned to strut toward the wine barrels, every curve of her body swaying and moving with flirtatious intent.

Cara licked her teeth in anticipation.

As the night wore on, the sisters began to wander into private rooms, around corners, and alcoves. A couple of broken slaves had been brought into the main chamber, and they crawled along the floor between their mistresses, their heads upturned and ready to please. Several Mord-Sith slinked off on their own to tend to their own pets. All night the Mord'Sith cleansed their deeds with pain and pleasure.

In the morning, Dahlia stretched, a satisfying ache flowing through her limbs as she felt each mark and bruise borne of Cara's torment. She relished in the pain, savoring the relief that Cara chose to find in her.


End file.
